


Sovngarde Awaits

by TourmalineQueen



Series: Rozenn the Breton [29]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Deathfic, F/M, sadfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 06:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20652620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineQueen/pseuds/TourmalineQueen
Summary: Written for the Skyrim KinkmemeDragonborns - DeathSo, dearest anons, since I'm a curious cat. How does YOUR Dragonborn die? And what happens after they do?If they're not Nordic, do the tales of them get changed to make them Nords?Do they die peacefully with their loved ones surrounding them? (a la Bioshock)Or do they go down in a horrible reign of fire? (...a la Bioshock)Would very much like to know!Only cringe-worthy stuff I find is bathroom related or bestiality. Otherwise, go nuts!





	Sovngarde Awaits

Hjerim was too quiet. Rozenn finished tidying her room - no longer "their" room, had not been for ten long years - and chose her final set of armour. Her Nord Hero set with frost resistant enchantments was the best for her purposes, although she packed her Stormcloak General's armour to bring with her.

Gazing around at the weapon racks, she picked up a Dragonbone sword and Nord hero war axe: she had long preferred dual wielding over two-handed weapons, and she loved both of these, the first of which her husband had made for her years ago, and the latter she had crafted with Eorlund's help at the Skyforge. Pausing by the weapon plaque by the bedroom door, she also lifted a battered Glass mace, her luckiest weapon, and packed it with her Stormcloak armour. No point being under-prepared.

She descended the stairs and walked into the children's rooms: she had never had the heart to convert them back to Enchanter's and Alchemists' laboratories. Barengar was safely ensconced in the College of Winterhold and planning a tour of the Cyrodiil Mages Guild, Sofie was happily married in Whiterun, in close contact with the Twins in Jorrvaskr - Ylva's and Sylvia's surprise arrival had turned Galmar white, she recalled with a fond smile. The children would thrive, she knew.

She wrote a small missive for High King Ulfric apologising for leaving, reminding him that they would meet again once Sovngarde called him, and instructing him to have her Housecarls released from duty should they wish it. Tolerating her crankiness for this length earned them their freedom - and sealed it, leaving it in a prominent spot on the table. She also scrawled a note apologising to Ralof and Hadvar for not stopping to say goodbye, but that Riverwood would take her too far from her destination.

Quietly she left Windhelm, boarded the carriage and set off. Minutes later, the carriage returned, and Rozenn ran back to the house, grabbing the Diamond Claw from its' place on the mantelpiece. Rolling her eyes, she ran back to the carriage, and they headed East.

Ansilvund was quiet when they arrived. She paid the driver, Calder, who looked at her as though she had lost all sense.

"You do know the place is full of angry Draugr," he warned the elder Breton.

"I know, Housecarl," she replied, smiling wryly. "They're always returning there after I clear the place, like Skeevers. But that's not my final destination. It's just not safe to take a horse and carriage where I'm headed."

"You need any help?" Calder asked.

"You retired long ago, my friend, to a life of peace and contentment. I won't have you lose that just to make my life easier. Besides, I'll be calling on a - big - friend to help me, once I'm far enough that he won't spook the poor horse, never you fear. Oh, and equally important this means that when High King Ulfric questions you about this, you don't know where I'm going."

"I should know where you're going," the man protested. "And - I should be with you until the end."

"I bet Galmar trained you to say that, didn't he? Calder, you have been my friend since my Thaneship of Windhelm. You have a husband who loves you and a job that makes you happy. Hold on to those, and never let go. Goodbye, friend," Rozenn said, gripping his wrist hard enough to bruise.

She turned from him, and as he began to dismount from the carriage he heard her shout echo.

"WULD NAH KEST!!!"

"Wait! My Thane - Rozenn..."  
But Rozenn had gone, past the entrance to the ancient tomb with a speed that belied her age, and into the wilder, untamed boreal landscape that swallowed her instantly. She put as much distance between herself and the road as she could manage, before setting down her pack and cupping her hands around her mouth.

"OD AH VIING!!!"

The red dragon duly arrived, grumbling in Dragon Tongue as usual about not being a pack mule - the beast often reminded her of Marcurio, making her smile. And so she mounted Odahviing's neck and they flew to Skuldafn. Once she dismounted and resettled her pack, she turned to her old friend.

"Do not wait for my summons, my friend, for you will be a long time indeed. This time, I have no plan to return from Sovngarde."

The red dragon bowed his head and nuzzled her.

"Then I will watch over your kiire*, Dovahkiin."

Rozenn nodded, blinking mistily. "They're good kiire."

"The twin females will understand, I believe. As will the kodaav* female. The male will not understand," Odahviing pointed out.

"No, you are right, my friend, Barengar will have the most trouble with this. Tell him to speak with Nunca Ulfric if you cannot make him understand."

The dragon nodded, and without further preamble took off, calling his goodbyes in the dragon tongue.

Rozenn placed her weapons at her hips, dragonbone and glass, and without a glance back, entered the realm of the Dragons and Deathlords. She was unafraid. After all, no matter if she culled Skuldafn's inhabitants or if they killed her: she would enter Sovngarde that day.


End file.
